Prelude of Lies (4 page)

Why did his simple question sound like an invitation for sex? Was that just her, or was he flirting?

“I’ll do it as long as you don’t scare me on purpose.” And she was flirting right back. She was pathetic.

“I would never do that. Now tell me what you know about this ground.” He flipped his notebook open.

“My grandfather’s. He passed it to Daisy and me when he died, with the stipulation that we give the campground business at least five years before selling. His evil second wife somehow managed to get the lawyer to add that we have until this season to open for business and then she kept the rights tied up until last week.”

“Ah. Something tells me there’s bad blood,” he said.

“Not just bad, poison.”

“We’ll go there in a minute. Why did your grandfather insist you re-open the campground?”

“I’m not sure. He wanted Daisy and I to continue with the family legacy, I think. As much as he bent to Violet’s demands on everything else, he stayed firm about this place for the most part. Daisy and I spent every summer here, and a lot of the off season, too. He taught us everything from how to run the campground to how to dredge the pond. He wanted us to carry on the tradition. He said that constantly. The property has belonged to a Brook’s son for about three hundred years.”

“Why didn’t your dad take over? That seems to be the pattern.”

“Dad is some kind of weird throwback. As much as he loved coming here, he’s deathly allergic to bee stings, mosquito bites, and poison ivy. Gramps used to just shake his head and say something messed with the DNA. Dad’s the only one in the family with those allergies. Daisy and I can roll around naked in any kind of poison and never get a bump. So could Gramps.”

His eyebrow rose. “Do you and Daisy often roll around naked in poison? I’d like to see that.”

“Shut up. That’s not what I meant.” Her face felt hot.

There were those sexy eye crinkles again. Damn.

“Anyway. We were the only Brooks’s left. Gramps knew we loved the place. He made sure we did. Two months after the wedding, Vile Violet proclaimed that we weren’t welcome here again. She wanted Gramps to turn Brookside into a casino.”

“Ouch. Obviously, he didn’t want that.”

“No. In fact, I think that was what gave him his first heart attack about a year after they were married. The business went downhill with his health, a slow decline. I think he wore himself down trying to keep her happy and make sure he kept Brookside viable for us. She was and is so adamant that this town needs a casino. That’s where we are right now. Most of the town wants the campground, others think a casino would be a great idea.”

“How long was the campground closed?” Marshal asked.

“About five years. Gramps wanted Daisy and I to take over after his third heart attack, but Violet convinced him we needed to live our own lives before being stuck here. She admitted that when she contested the will. She was right, but Daisy and I would have come had we known how bad things had gotten around here.”

“Were there ever any reports of paranormal activity that you can remember?” His pen poised over the notebook.

“You mean freaky shit?”

“Yeah. Freaky shit.”

“Well, Daisy and I used to think we saw stuff all the time, but the older we got the less we thought that. I don’t remember much with the guests. Wait. A couple rented one of these cabins the last summer I was here. It was late afternoon and the lady was alone. She said there was a man in the room and when she screamed, he vanished. Gramps thought she might have had too much to drink. He said she smelled of liquor. I guess that’s not what you mean.” Sydney didn’t want to tell him anymore than that. Her current experience had to be enough. Dredging up the past wasn’t something she wanted to do.

“It’s exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t happen to remember which cabin?” Marshal’s hope nearly unglued her careful composure.

“I don’t, but I can find out. I have all of Gramps’ business files and the guest logs he insisted on.”

“Wonderful. Do you know any of the area history?”

“Only that the woods were supposedly occupied during the Civil War. We’re far enough from Gettysburg that I rarely see mention of the area. I’m not sure any battles were fought here. There’s also talk that this area was part of the Trail of Tears. I haven’t verified that.”

“I assume Vile Violet is your step-grandmother?” He wrote the name, including
Vile
in his notebook. Maybe she shouldn’t call her that anymore.

“Yes. She’s wicked to us, but to be fair, she treats her family well. I don’t know why she hates Daisy and I so much.”

“I know it’s none of my business, but what kind of rules did she put on you and Daisy re-opening the campground?” Marshal asked.

“Well, she took us to court after the reading of the will. And after tying our inheritance up for over a year, the judge approved her new conditions, as if she hadn’t made Gramps agree to enough before he died. We have to pass a weekly progress inspection, have to live onsite, and Daisy and I both have to be here at least until we open. I think she did that because everyone knows Daisy has no interest in being here. Gramps left us enough money to be successful, but she managed to find a way to keep us from accessing most of the funds until after we reopen. We’re working on a shoestring budget. And then there are the terms of sale, including the money we lose if we have to sell to her . . .” She pressed her fingers to her temples. Her head hurt just thinking about it, but she gave him the rest of the lowdown anyway.

“That’s kind of brutal. So every week after Memorial Day, you lose ten grand if you decide to sell? And you have to sell to Violet if you quit before the five-year mark?”

“Gramps agreed to most of the terms before he died. I think that was his way of challenging us and making sure we gave running Brookside a fair chance. Violet has first rights. That’s what doesn’t make sense. If we sell before May, the price is fair. Why would they try to get us to sell now?”

“Maybe they’re only trying to make things difficult for you to delay your opening. Who’s Jace?”

“Violet’s grandson. I’ve never met him, but he’s a major ass.” She never wanted to talk to him again.

“Does he know we’re here?” Marshal scribbled in the margin of the page.

“He has to. Why else would the cabin be trashed and a beer can left behind?” She tried to ignore the male influence on the cabin. A pair of orange boxer shorts hung on the bathroom doorknob. Why hadn’t she seen them before?

“Maybe you should meet with him? Find out exactly what he and his grandmother are up to.”

She turned toward Marshal, her back to the boxers. “I’ll break his teeth if I see his face.”

Though, Sydney had to admit, she’d thought about calling a meeting with Jace. Maybe she could appeal to his logic and make him understand how important honoring Gramps was to her and Daisy.

“Understood. I’m not telling you what to do, just a suggestion from a neutral party.” Marshal had a funny twist on his mouth, like maybe he thought he’d overstepped his boundary.

“No problem. Do you need me for anything else?” She pushed her chair back and stood. Halting at the devilish grin he now wore. His eyes made her think of sex and so did the little quirk of his mouth.

Marshal shook his head. “We’ll set the equipment up a few hours before dusk. I want to start with the pond and the bathhouse tonight. You do realize it’s going to take us a long time to cover the whole place?”

“Yeah, Daisy explained how you operate. Why the pond first? I figured you’d start with this creepy as hell cabin.”

“The tractor is gone now. The pond was disturbed. Sometimes renovations and that kind of stuff will draw the spirits out. We run equipment in here constantly. Take a nap and bring your open mind.” He stood and went with her to the door. His nearness made it difficult to remember what he’d said.

Sydney thought about turning around and pushing him back into the cabin and locking the door behind them. She laughed at her stupid self. Like she’d ever have the guts.

As she went toward her cabin, faint laughter met her ears. At first, she thought Daisy had finally lost the crappy mood she had earlier, until the eerie sound surrounded her along with a rush of cold air.

CHAPTER 4

Daisy watched Graham do laps around the bathhouse. He seemed distracted and talked to himself.

Curiosity getting the better of her, she stopped and leaned against the wall. Graham faltered as he approached, reaching his hand to his side and pulling out a tape recorder. Holding the device up, he stopped in front of her.

“Brainstorming.”

Daisy nodded. Her roommate in college was a writer. As she waited for him to turn off the machine, she tried to figure out why Graham made her sister so crazy. Was it because he was truly a jerk, or maybe her sister was far too attracted and used her anger as a shield?

“You make my sister nuts. Why?” Why bother sidestepping what she wanted to know?

“I don’t do it on purpose. Well, okay, maybe I do. She’s fun angry and I had to find out if she was willing to give Marshal a chance without interfering.” He leaned against the wall beside her.

“Why? I thought you and Marshal were at odds?” Something else was going on here.

“No. It’s a good way to get a better feel for how people will react to paranormal activity. I am a skeptic, but more like Marshal. I write ghost stories. Some based on real events. I’ve definitely seen some things that add to the old muse, but I’m not saying I believe in this stuff. I am really looking forward to this investigation, though. Did Marshal tell you about the cabin last night?”

She shook her head, confused and interested. Why was she seeing a different side of him? Was he playing her? But why? The way his eyes lit up when he described the cold air and voices only confused her more. She wanted to hate him as much as her sister did, but couldn’t find it. What she did feel worried her.

Graham was handsome, in a perfect
GQ
kind of way. Not her type, so why did her stomach flip when he leaned forward in his excitement? For a brief moment, she could only think of kissing him. Sydney would have a heart attack.

And then there was Tucker. Flirting and making outrageous comments. She wanted to ask him about the baby, but every time she opened her mouth, one of the crew appeared. Who would have thought their quiet campground life would suddenly fill up with more testosterone than either of them could handle? She wondered how Sydney managed her interview with Marshal. Daisy wished Sydney would get over herself and jump Marshal’s bones. Maybe Daisy should do the same with Graham.

Daisy held the extension cord for Marshal as he connected the equipment. Setup was always exciting and she realized how much she’d missed working with these guys.

“Sorry I didn’t make it over to talk to you this morning.” She gave him the slack he requested and moved forward.

“No problem. Your sister gave me a lot of information. She’s not like I pictured.” He didn’t look up, and Daisy wished she could see his face.

“How did you picture her?” Good, he straightened and turned toward her.

“I don’t know. Stern, bitchy, and ugly. One of those tight-bunned, gray-flannel-suit wearing matronly types. And fat, too.” He grinned and bent to wind the cord around the base of the tree so no one accidentally unplugged the setup.

She grimaced. “That’s quite a bad image. I guess I only told you the frustrating stuff. She’s definitely not any of those things.”

“Definitely not. No matter what she says to you, she has an open mind and she’s interested in what we’re doing.”

“Maybe her opinions changed after her experience in the cabin? She’s fair. Her personal beliefs don’t affect how she treats people.”

“Are you saying she’s only being nice?”

“Maybe. I don’t think so. She is nice. Except where Graham is concerned. Why didn’t you tell me you two are in cahoots?” She should kick him for lying.

Marshal shrugged. “He wanted to see what happened and since it kind of helped with the investigation I let him.”

“Why?”

“He’s my brother. Well, half-brother. We grew up together. Until his mom left my dad when I was sixteen. I hadn’t seen him for a long time. We kept in touch, but not often, you know? He’s a good guy. Kind of prissy, always was.”

“Prissy is Sydney’s type.” Oops. She shouldn’t have said that. Marshal seemed a little shocked and disappointed. “She hates him, though.”

Marshal didn’t say anything. When was she going to learn to keep her mouth shut? She’d probably just blown Sydney’s chances with Marshal.

“Lights out in ten.” Dave breezed by, taking his job seriously as usual.

“We’re ready.” Marshal stepped around her.

Somehow, she managed to be paired with Graham for the first shift. They were only supposed to keep an eye on the computer monitors set up in the empty cabin and take care of troubleshooting. In two hours, they’d switch jobs with another team and head out with one of the other crew members and see what they could record.

This part was boring, watching the others record their impressions and experiences. At least their conversation wasn’t being recorded like everyone else’s. She’d made sure she told Sydney that before her shift started with Marshal.

Graham filed his fingernails in an irritating pattern. She’d love to see him with two-day growth on his face and zero hair gel. A pair of jeans and no shirt. She wondered if he worked out or if that fantasy would disappoint in real life.

She liked him and she didn’t. He was cute, too fancy, and hard to read. Daisy didn’t think she was seeing the real him.

“So. Is your sister still pissed at me?”

Her fantasy deflated. She tried not to be disappointed and remembered Graham was more Sydney’s type.

“Definitely. She doesn’t appreciate the deceit. She’s pissed at Marshal, too, if that makes you feel any better.”

“I think she’s madder at me. She hates me.” Was he pouting?

“You’re probably right. She does hate you.” She watched the monitors, hoping something interesting would happen soon.

Graham seemed to want to say something, but when the silence stretched, she figured he either chickened out or decided he was talking to the wrong sister. Daisy didn’t know why that hurt. It wasn’t like she was interested in Graham except to think about what he’d look like dirty and naked.

Ten minutes later, Daisy wished she’d been able to sleep when she tried to nap earlier. Concentrating on the equipment was putting her into zombie mode.

“Hey.” One of the radios crackled to life. “What is that?”

Daisy leaned forward, watching the video of what Sydney said was fog. Figures swirled on the surface of the water.

“Can you hear that?” Marshal whispered.

The faint sounds of music drifted through the speaker.

“Something’s going on at the pond.” Graham leaned forward and she almost drowned in the masculine smell of his aftershave.

“Are they really dancing?” Sydney’s whisper.

Daisy watched the wispy outlines on the screen, convinced they were dancing. But, then, maybe not. “They’re not dancing. They’re ice skating. See?” She pointed as one of the smaller shapes fell, sliding on imaginary ice.

“What’s with the music then?” Graham’s concentration stayed on the screen. “They’re in tune with it.”

Daisy didn’t answer. If he stayed in his position nearly over top her much longer she was going to lick his neck. He didn’t smell like a priss, he smelled like a man. And, God help her, she liked it.

Sydney watched from the edge of the pond, trying to stay out of the way. The vision in front of her was incredible. The water at the edge of the pond, not two feet from her, appeared frozen solid, but she wasn’t cold. The misty figures swirled and skated. They had no distinguishable features she could see, but their disembodied laughter echoed through the odd silence surrounding them.

She glanced over at Marshal, his excitement visible, and suppressed the urge to smile along with him. Her attraction had to be kept to herself. It was bad enough Daisy knew she thought Marshal was drool-worthy. The last thing she needed was for him to figure out he made her knees weak.

Sydney had thought long and hard about what she wanted to do when she was supposed to be resting up for tonight. As much as she’d love to break free and do something outrageous, she wouldn’t. She’d done that once and the result had been disaster. It didn’t matter that she’d only been sixteen and delusional about love and relationships. She hadn’t been thinking short-term when she agreed to park with Duff. She hadn’t been thinking, period. When Duff said he loved her and wanted to marry her, she’d willingly opened her legs, dreaming about the future through his awkward lovemaking.

Hell, what had she known?

Maybe the pregnancy scare and the terrible rumors Duff had tried to spread about her were responsible for her attitudes about sex with no consequences. When she’d told Duff her suspicions, he denied they’d been together. Then, he told the rest of the football team he’d tried because she’d come on so strong, but that she’d ended up being too afraid. The team had made a bet on who could get her to follow through.

Lucky for her, Daisy had overheard some of the conversation and Sydney had turned down every one of them when they’d asked her out. And every other guy, too. She couldn’t take the chance they knew the things Duff said about her.

She hadn’t had sex again until her sophomore year of college. He was gentle and thorough and she’d come away with a new appreciation for lovemaking even though the relationship had only lasted two months more, until he changed majors and transferred to a bigger school. Sydney hadn’t been as heartbroken as she should have been. Maybe that was because he’d changed her life a little and the change was good.

Her attention snapped back to the present, she blinked when she realized the winter time illusion had faded. Marshal came toward her, his expression a mixture of joy and seduction. She didn’t think her impression, at least of the seduction part, was on, but it didn’t matter.

“That was incredible.”

She waited. Would he take the scene at face value or try to find an explanation? “What now?”

“We study the footage. See if there’s evidence of this being manufactured and go from there.” He touched her arm and pointed to the bathhouse.

Sydney nodded, suppressing a groan at the bathhouse stake out. She hated that building and as soon as they had the money, planned to have it razed and a better facility built. Maybe her hatred stemmed from the way she and Daisy were punished when they misbehaved. Any time they stepped out of line, Gramps made them clean this bathroom three times a day for a week. She’d probably cleaned this bathroom for a total of two years. If not more. Daisy had way more time in.

Before she had a chance to voice her opinions on sitting in the dank stalls and waiting for spirits, her cell phone vibrated with a voicemail. She knew the message wouldn’t be one she wanted to hear. Still, she pressed in the code for the mailbox and moved away from the recording equipment surrounding her on all sides.

“Listen, I don’t know what you two are up to, but we have to talk. Grandmother is losing a lot of money waiting for you to find your sense of honor. You made a deal with her. You won’t get a higher price, if that’s what you think. Your grandfather would be so disappointed in you.”

Tears filled her eyes as she saved the message and turned off the phone. Would Gramps be disappointed in them? Damn Jace. How dare he? What did he know of Gramps and his wishes?

Marshal didn’t ask. So much for what she thought was the beginning of a friendship. She tried not to let his disinterest bother her. He was working and probably felt uncomfortable.

The rest of the night passed in complete boredom. By three, Sydney yawned so frequently, Marshal sent her to bed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a flirty comment. She crawled under the covers wanting to smack him and every guy in the campground all because of Jace.

The night noises interspersed with an occasional loud burst of laughter. Despite her irritation and the weird laughter she’d heard again on her way back to the cabin, Sydney felt safe. Marshal’s crew was in rare form, probably due to the things she knew they did capture.

Marshal planned to leave the equipment up overnight and assigned Dave first watch. Sydney had a feeling it was more of a safety measure than hope of catching any other activity. She turned with a sigh and allowed her mind to wander to places it probably shouldn’t. What would it hurt to dream about a night with Marshal? It was better than thinking about Jace’s message.

Daisy wished she could hate Graham. They’d spent the past two hours paired with Eric and Ron, who basically ignored them and seemed to be more into each other than their jobs. She wondered if Marshal knew, not that he would care about how much they liked each other, but he’d flip to find out they weren’t doing necessary tasks to maintain the company’s credibility.

Graham had whispered a commentary on what the men were saying to each other, adding a perverted twist and making it hard for her to not laugh. That was bad enough, but when he touched her back and squeezed to get her attention, she had to hide her reaction or embarrass herself.

Damn. She didn’t want to be attracted to him and she didn’t want to follow her advice to Sydney. Sure, she’d had a couple of one-night stands, but it had been years. She preferred some commitment, the emotion attached to the sex. Maybe she was only hot and bothered because it had been so long. Maybe she should screw Graham’s brains out to teach him a lesson.

Graham leaned against the tree watching Eric and Ron. He caught her assessment and sent her a knowing grin. Damn. Could he read her mind? She hoped not. Otherwise, she was in big trouble.

Sydney’s light was out by the time Daisy arrived at their cabin. Daisy peeked in on her to make sure she indeed slept. Truthfully, she wanted to make sure she wasn’t holed up somewhere with Marshal having the time of her life.